Broken Iris Preview: Meeting the Reaper
by The Fire Fox of the Red Moon
Summary: A young woman. Tragic victim of circumstance. Hatred flaring within her, tearing her apart from the inside. An unusual friend, An assassin and a coming storm. With the only thing left by the end being a broken iris. Shattered and scattered to the wind...


Nightwing was on patrol late one stifling warm summer night. The humidity almost made it difficult to breathe, but the cool of night was a welcome relief. There hadn't been much action. Simple things; the occasional thug mugging someone or small-class robbery. He stood atop the Wayne Enterprise building, looking down on Gotham and he found his mind wandering to his classmate, Moira. Her entire situation was bad; she had to move away from the only home she knew to a place like Gotham. New school, new town, new everything. Not even two months later her apartment burns down and her sister and mother burn with it. Not the best way to start a new life.

The school was helping her out, allowing her to have jobs and granting her extra time to do projects in order to support herself but still..._ With so much going on, I wish there was something I could do._ He thought, thinking of his friend. He hadn't known her very long, but even so, she was a nice person, did good things. She didn't deserve the cards she was dealt. Her family didn't deserve them either.

He was brought out of his thoughts when his earpiece screamed and made him wince. Batman's voice could be heard through the noise; "Nightwing! Come in Nightwing!" Said the man urgently.

Nightwing brought his hand up to the earpiece and adjusted the sound, "Nightwing to Batman, what's the problem?" He asked, personal thoughts gone. He could think about his friend later; there was a mission to be done.

"The wharf. Disturbance detected in warehouse 13. According to the information we have, there was a weapon dealing ring going on." Explained the Batman. Nightwing used his grappling hook to swing from building to building, making his was to the wharf as his mentor went over the details.

"Who is it this time? Injustice League?" Questioned the vigilante.

A moment of quiet, then, "No. Sources reveal the ringleader of this operation is weapon and drug dealer, Raul Jesso. Well known in the underworld. I wouldn't be surprised if he was working with the Injustice League." Batman told him.

Nightwing landed hard on the next rooftop, the bay in sight, and he stopped dead. Raul Jesso was, t_he guy who set Mara's building on fire. Who killed her mom and sister._ His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists,

"Something the matter?" Came Batman's voice from the other line. Once again bringing the man out of his thoughts. He shook his head to clear his mind.

"I'm fine. I'm heading there now." He said, reporting his coordinates and position to the Dark Knight as he landed on the roof of the warehouse beside he target building.

He settled himself behind some crates and moved around the side of the building. He had a view of the warehouse inside of the windows and he was surprised to see and hear gunfire going off. Men were yelling and screaming. The lights and bangs of guns echoing and reaching the outside.

As he looked on he saw a group of four men run by the window looking panicked and angry, shooting at something as they retreated further towards the back of the warehouse and as the moved out of sight he saw a figure come into view. A long black cloak and a white mask with black eyes and a sinister red painted smile. I went speeding past the window and out of sight so fast, Nighwing almost didn't see it. More shooting and screaming, then quiet.

"What in the world was that?" Whispered Nightwing to himself, then tuned up his earpiece, "Nightwing to Batman, I'm going in." He said and waited for an answer.

"Understood," The man responded, "Be careful."

With that, Nightwing jumped down and snuck around the front to peek through the open warehouse door. As he peered inside he saw the bodies of several men, their blood splattered across the cement floor with the guns they'd been carrying laid out, useless, on the ground near them.

He moved inside, pulling out his own weapons and preparing himself for a confrontation. As he ventured further inside he whipped to the side, attention drawn to the sound of pounding, that sounded so harsh it made him want to flinch. There he saw the black cloaked, masked figure, holding Raul Jesso up by the front of his shirt and punching him repeatedly. The dealer's right arm hung limply at his side and his left leg was twisted around in a way that someone's leg should never be. His face was bloody and bruised and he seemed to be missing a few teeth.

Upon noticing him, the masked man stopped hitting Jesso momentarily to look in Nightwing's direction. He was tall, not as tall as Nightwing, but tall and thin. He didn't look particularly well muscled but then again, with the loose trench coat he wore it was hard to tell. He had on long black pants and black combat boots. A utility belt strapped around his waist, nothing unusual, but what caught Nightwing's eye was the retractor, thin thread-like wire and clip on the belt.

The mask, however was the most disturbing thing. A full face mask, not a clue to what the person's face underneath looked like. Only the creepy white face, narrowed black eyes, the thin and slightly upturned grin painted red and the jagged purple painted scar over the left eye. Framed by short black hair, pulled back into a short ponytail.

"What do you want?" Came a somewhat deep voice, a young man. Sounding anywhere between 18 and 23.

Nightwing tensed at being addressed, this person standing before him, there was something off, almost otherworldly, about him. Yet something vaguely familiar, though he couldn't fathom why.

But he pushed his uneasiness aside and stood straight. "I'd like an explanation about this, if you don't mind." He said, forcefully and more confidently than he felt. The masked man said nothing and Nightwing went on, "Do you have a name?" He asked.

"Reaper." Said the masked man, almost immediately.

_ Reaper,_ thought Nightwing, taking another moment to cast his gaze at all the dead bodies around him, _how appropriate._ Then he turned back to the Reaper and began again.

"I know this group and their leader aren't exactly the best of people, and God knows they don't deserve any lenience, but killing them is-"

"Unnecessary?" Asked the Reaper in a calm and curious voice. And Nightwing's eyes widened in mild surprise when he finished his sentence.

Then the Reaper went on, "Not for me it isn't. This is completely necessary. To make up for the things this man did to me and my family. To avenge the people I loved who were taken from me." He explained solemnly.

Nightwing, grew tense and his fists clenched, "So, you're nothing but a vengeance seeking murderer. No better than the men you laid low." He said to the masked man, voice threatening.

The Reaper made no motion that he was offended, but he straightened up and looked at Nightwing. He slowly loosened his grip on Jesso's shirt front and let the criminal drop to the floor, who hurriedly tried to drag himself away. Leaving bloody marks on the ground as he slid towards the far end of the warehouse. Nightwing glared at the dark clad assassin before him.

"That's what this whole midnight massacre is about? Some petty act of revenge? I don't think you're family that you say you're avenging would be too happy that you've murdered all these people in cold blood." He said darkly, fierce voice echoing off the walls and resounding through the warehouse.

The Reaper said nothing, only watched the vigilante grow more irritated. Then he slowly and calmly began to walk after Jesso, who hadn't gotten very far with his dislocated shoulder and broken leg. He talked, voiced steady and cold as he made his way over to the injured man.

"The need for revenge is a funny thing," he began, coming up to Jesso and firmly planting his boot onto the man's back, causing him to cough and splutter blood into the concrete floor. Still, the Reaper paid his suffering no mind and went on talking, " It won't bring back the dead. Nor will it bring them happiness." He said softly, almost sadly. But then his voice grew more harsh, "But..." and pressed his boot harder onto Jesso's back. The man let out a strangled cry and he coughed up more blood.

Nightwing tensed as the breaking of Jesso's ribs could be heard throughout the warehouse. And the sound continued to repeat in his mind, like a terrible echo that wouldn't cease.

"I don't know if this will bring me any sort of peace or resolution. Of it will somehow fill the hole in my heart, I doubt it. Killing him won't make me feel any better-"

"So why, then?" Nightwing interrupted. Wondering why, that if someone knew that revenge wouldn't help them get past their grief, that they could still...

"Because I'll go to sleep tonight, knowing I did this city a favor. I did right by this town at least."

"How is something like this of any good to this city? All you're doing is setting a bloody example of what happens when people go looking for revenge." Interrupted Nightwing again. The Reaper seemed to be glaring at him form under his unchanging mask expression.

"How many people has this man, and his group killed? How many lives destroyed, how many people suffered? I'm sure he caused more than enough trouble for you and your batty group over the years." He said, the strain of impatience and irritation in his voice.

Nightwing said nothing at first. The words were true. Raul Jesso had cause many problems for the city and for the citizens. Many people suffered because of his misdeeds and illegal dealings. Drug, weapon dealer, killed and stole but...

"That doesn't make killing him right. The better thing would be to turn him in. To serve justice-" The Reaper's dark laughter stopped him from continuing.

"Justice? You contradict yourself. I'm serving justice by killing him. Is this particularly the "right" way to go about it, no; but in the effort of "justice" I'm giving him just what he deserves. The hand I deal is the one he's earned. For all the people who's lives were cut short and for their loved ones left behind to suffer hardships and despair without any peace-of-mind or consolation. I would honor their memory to serve justice, the way it should be dealt. Now, as good a time as any, seeing as those victims were denied it before now." The dark man explained.

His black, soulless eyes seemed to blaze right though Nightwing and burn holes in his skin as the Reaper stared at him. He froze.

"I'm not doing this because it's the "right thing", I'm doing it because it needs to be done." The Reaper said and then bent down to lift the whimpering wheezing Jesso up by the front of his shirt again.

"You shouldn't interfere, because this really is none of your business, and I know you won't; because you know I'm right." He told Nightwing smugly and with that, turned away. Dragging Jesso roughly on the ground after him and receding into the dark room at the back of the warehouse. Their figures disappeared into the black, and the terrified pleading screams of Jesso could be heard just before the steel door slammed shut on them both and all was immediately silent.

Nightwing stood still, bodies of men lay in pools of blood all across the warehouse floor. The lights flickered for a moment and he clenched his fists in frustration. Suddenly the sound of sirens brought him to attention.

_The police are here. Great. Better go explain things._ He thought exasperated. The young man turned to head outside; but not before casting a glance over his shoulder at the door to the back room, which was open once again. He saw blood working its way out of the shadows and into the light. Creeping and spreading across the floor to stain the ground red. The body of Jesso, he knew, was just beyond the light's reach, hidden on the shadows. And of course, no sign of the Reaper.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
